Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [15]
Even without the locator, the troll would have been easy to follow. It had left a trail of destruction wider than a tunnel excavator. Holly flew low, skipping between mist hazes and trees, matching the troll’s course. The crazed creature had cut a swathe through the middle of a vineyard, turned a stone wall to rubble, and left a guard dog gibbering under a hedge. Then she flew over the cows. It was not a pretty sight. Without going into details, let’s just say that there wasn’t much left besides horns and hooves.
The red bip was louder now. Louder meant closer. She could see the town below her, nestled on top of a low hill, surrounded by a crenellated wall from the Middle Ages. Lights still burned in most windows. Time for a little magic.
A lot of the magic attributed to the People is just superstition. But they do have certain powers. Healing, the mesmer, and shielding among them. Shielding is really a misnomer. What fairies actually do is to vibrate at such a high frequency that they are never in one place long enough to be seen. Humans may notice a slight shimmer in the air if they are paying close attention—which they rarely are. And even then the shimmer is generally attributed to evaporation. Typical of Mud People to invent a complicated explanation for a simple phenomenon.
Holly switched on her shield. It took a bit more out of her than usual. She could feel the strain in the beads of sweat on her forehead. I really should complete the Ritual, she thought. The sooner the better.
Some commotion below broke into her thoughts. Something that didn’t gel with the nighttime noises. Holly adjusted the trim on her backpack and flew in for a closer look. Look only, she reminded herself, that was her job. A Recon officer was sent up the chutes to pinpoint the target, while the Retrieval boys took a nice cushy shuttle.
The troll was directly below her, pounding against the town’s outer wall, which was coming away in chunks beneath his powerful fingers. Holly sucked in a startled gasp. This guy was a monster! Big as an elephant and ten times as mean. But this particular beast was worse than mean, he was scared.
“Control,” said Holly into her mike. “Runner located. Situation critical topside.”
Root himself was on the other end of the comlink.
“Clarify, Captain.”
Holly pointed her video link at the troll.
“Runner is going through the town wall. Contact imminent. How far away is Retrieval?”
“ETA five minutes minimum. We’re still in the shuttle.”
Holly bit her lip. Root was in the shuttle?
“That’s too long, Commander. This whole town is going to explode in ten seconds . . . I’m going in.”
“Negative, Holly . . . Captain Short. You don’t have an invite. You know the law. Hold your position.”
“But, Commander—”
Root cut her off. “No! No buts, Captain. Hang back. That’s an order!”
Holly’s entire body felt like a heartbeat. Gasoline fumes were addling her brain. What could she do? What was the right decision to make? Lives or orders?
Then the troll broke through the wall and a child’s voice split the night.
“Aiuto!” it screamed.
Help. An invitation. At a stretch.
“Sorry, Commander. The troll is light-crazy and there are children in there.”
She could imagine Root’s face, purple with rage as he spat into the mike.
“I’ll have your stripes, Short! You’ll spend the next hundred years on drain duty!”
But it was no use. Holly had disconnected her mike and swooped in after the troll.
Streamlining her body, Captain Short ducked into the hole. She appeared to be in a restaurant. A packed restaurant. The troll had been temporarily blinded by the electric light and was thrashing about in the center of the floor.
The patrons were stunned. Even the child’s plea had petered out. They sat gaping, party hats perched comically on their heads. Waiters froze, huge trays of pasta quivering on their splayed fingers. Chubby Italian infants covered their eyes with chubby fingers. It was always like this in the beginning: the shocked silence. Then came the screaming.
A wine bottle crashed to the floor.